Shattered Realities
by Shari-Bob
Summary: An AU fic in which Michael is Liz's adopted brother. All four pod squad members are aliens. Still interested?
1. Prologue

Title: Shattered Realities  
Author: Shari Starlight  
Email: Sharistarlight@aol.com  
Rating: R  
Spoilers: a little of the basic story, all characters  
  
Disclaimer: The characters in their initial creation are owned by the producers and writers of the official show. I simply take the names and the idea of the story to write a poor contrast to the show. The quote is from Ten Things I Hate About you.  
  
Summary: no. this is the prologue. It's AU and CC, mainly dreamer. That's all you are going to get out of me.  
  
Prologue  
  
Aliens suck. They've forever ruined my life. I hate them with the fire of a thousand suns. (see disclaimer for quote info).   
  
You're probably wondering why I hate aliens so much, or even why I believe in them. So I'm going to tell you. However, first I must provide you with some background information. My name is Elizabeth Parker, only daughter to Jeff and Nancy Parker, and my life has always been full of new beginnings. These new beginnings result from when my life changes so drastically that my perception of the reality around me is shattered to pieces and my life must begin again from scratch.   
  
For the first four years of my life, I lived in blissful ignorance of the existence of aliens as the daughter of the owners of the Crashdown Cafe, ironically an alien-themed restaurant in Roswell, New Mexico. But one day of the fifth year of my life, my parents sat me down to tell me that I would now have a brother. Shattered Reality #1.  
I adored my brother, Michael, from the moment that I met him. When I first saw him, he could not speak and he had built a wall around himself against everyone. However, when his eyes met mine, his walls instantly crumbled. As we linked hands a moment later, a connection formed between us and we began to see flashes from one another. I saw his memories, and he saw mine. He saw the memories of my childhood. I saw his birth from one of four pods, the other three empty because of his late birth; I saw how he shut the world out at the realization that his family, the other pod members, had abandoned him. I saw his hurt and angry perception of life, that lasted until he met me. I saw myself; the weird thing is that I was beautiful in his eyes. I was beautiful to him because I accepted him and I was his true sister, I would not abandon him.  
  
Michael had been found wandering naked around the desert by the town sheriff, Jim Valenti. Jim, assuming the boy had been abandoned by parents that did not want him, decided to handle the adoption process himself. He contacted my parent, close friends of his from high school, and told them about the abandoned child. My parents had always wanted more than one child, but my mother's pregnancy with me had been incredibly difficult. The doctors informed them that my mother would not survive another pregnancy. At the news of the abandoned boy, my parents readily agreed to adopt him right away; the sheriff and my parents decided that, Roswell being the town that it was, it would be best if we moved away because of the gossip mill. They sold the Crashdown to Jim's wife, and they all agreed to keep in touch. And so, the Parker's moved to Mississippi, the black hole of the United States.  
  
But, wait, I am not here to tell you my whole life story. I have already told you why I believe in aliens, now I am going to tell you why I despise them. To relate my feelings to you, I will have to begin explaining with a certain day of my brother and my sophomore year of high school. Hang on, folks, you're in for a bumpy ride.  
  
  



	2. Entry One

quote: Simply Irresistible, slightly altered  
  
Chapter One  
  
  
Thank you for purchasing your tickets to the Elizabeth Parker cinema. Please take your seats and remain quiet throughout the presentation.  
  
  
October 1999 (entry 1)  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
Have you ever noticed how many words there are for tasty? There's scrumptious, yummy, delectable, delicious. . . (quote) I was sitting at the dinner table eating a meal my brother, Michael, had prepared for the family. "This is [b]really[/b] good, Mikey." My brother only grunted in response. I noticed that my parents were unusually quiet that night. I looked at my mother and noticed with a start that her eyes were all red and puffy. She had been crying. I questioned, "Mom, are you all right?"   
  
She nodded, and we all finished eating in deep silence. As I finished the food in front of me, I pushed my chair back. "I have to finish my homework. As I moved to ask my plate, however, my mother quickly stood and said, "Wait. . .we have something to tell you guys first."  
  
  
  
A while later, my entire family sat quietly in the living room. My parents sat in chairs across from Michael and I who were sitting across from them on the sofa. My parents faces appeared tired and older than their years. My mother asked me, "Lizzie, do you remember Sheriff Valenti?" I shook my head in bewilderment.  
  
I thought back to what I remember of Roswell, my birthplace. Suddenly, the face of a childhood friend appeared in my mind, a scruffy blonde boy. "Wait-- is that Kyle's dad?"  
  
My father nodded. "Yes. Anyway, Jim and I are old friends from college. He and his wife were very supportive during the adoption." I suddenly stiffened. Our parents [b]never[/b] mentioned my brother's adoption. I grasped my brother's hand firmly within my own. He smiled gratefully towards me.  
  
Mom stated, "Jim pulled all the strings to get Michael to us. When we decided to move, Michelle bought the Crashdown from us."  
  
Michael pulled me into his arms. "So. . .why did you call this meeting? To tell us that?" my brother asked.  
  
My father's eyes glistened. "We just got a call from Jim. His wife, Michelle, just died last week." And the word stopped. Shattered Reality #2.  
  
  
As always,   
Liz  



	3. Entry Two

October 1999 (entry two)  
Four days after entry two  
  
  
Dear diary,   
  
People ponder death on a daily basis. Death is an accepted part of life. We, as humans, know that death will happen to us one day and therefore try to live our life to the fullest. We accept the notion of death. . .until inky, black death seeps its way into our lives. When someone we know or love dies, we do not accept death. In fact, we go to many different lengths not to accept that death is real, that our loved one is truly dead. We might go through shock, denial, anger, grief. . .any number of things to ensure that we do not have to accept death is now a part of our lives.  
  
  
My parents flew to Roswell yesterday to visit Jim and to help with the funeral preparations. Mikey and I are doing our best to take care of the house in their absence. We figure that with the tragic event that has just occurred to their dear friend, the least we could do is keep the house clean.  
  
I think I am going through shock or denial. I am having a hard time believing that Michelle Valenti is truly dead. I remember her so vividly now. Every time I came over to play with Kyle, she would be there with a smile on her face offering me cookies. Her hair was always clean and shiny, smelling of apples. The thing I remember most clearly, though, is how full of life she was. She was always active and happy. She never did anything without a smile on her face.   
  
Michael only met Mrs. Valenti for a few moments during the adoption process, so he is not going through much grief. He has, however, been great through this. He is always there to catch me when I fall, and he has been doing all of the housework.   
  
I've been trying to focus on my schoolwork, but it is too hard. Every time I look at a math problem or attempt a history question, the only thing that comes to mind is Michelle Valenti's face and her shiny hair. It is like she exists in everything, every molecule of air, every piece of paper, every cookie, every person on the street. Her essence cries out to me from even the most mundane of objects.  
  
The nightmares have returned, the horribly gruesome ones from my childhood. I don't know how to explain them, exactly. All I can tell you is there is a man in them, oh what a man! And my brother, Mikey is in them; only his name isn't Michael, it is Rath something or other. And, the weirdest thing is that the dreams don't take place on Earth, they take place somewhere else, on another planet! Anyway, the dreams started the night of the news of Mrs. Valenti's death. So far, since the first returned nightmare, I have never slept alone. I have always somehow found myself asleep, snuggled into Mikey's embrace.   
  
I guess that is my way of dealing with death, blocking it out until REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep. You know, I used to think I was a very calm person, a person who was always in control and reasonable. Then my acceptance of death was reversed, and I began to deny the death of my friend's mother and my parent's friend. Death. . .it's a funny thing.  
  
Trying to cope,  
Liz  
  



End file.
